tarie
in
sunandsmut
Fic for Skarch86!
TO: skarch86
FROM: wook77
TITLE: The Root of Sin
PAIRING:Regulus/Severus with mentions of Sirius/Remus
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Too late, Regulus learns that pride is the cause of every sin.
WARNINGS: Character Death
DISCLAIMER: All characters associated with Harry Potter are the property of J. K. Rowling and associated business partners. No profit has been made.
AUTHOR NOTES: All quotations used are from This Website except for the text of the note. That is taken from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Chapter 28. Many thanks to my hand-holders betas without whom this story would not have occurred. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
"[Pride is] inordinate self-love [which] is the cause of every sin ... the root of pride is found to consist in man not being, in some way, subject to God and His rule." ~ St. Thomas Aquinas
Regulus entered the world with a scream.
That was when the lessons in what it meant to be a Black, Toujours Pur, began.
-A Black never raises his voice-
Regulus bit down on the inside of his lip as the Mark started to sear into his arm.
-A Black never associates with Mudbloods-
Regulus looked at the assembled crowd around him. Lucius Malfoy, his cousin Bellatrix, Severus Snape and Barty Crouch Jr. stood near him.
-A Black never fidgets-
As the Dark Mark burned through the bone and into his soul, Regulus stood still.
-A Black stands tall-
As the pain crested, Regulus stared straight ahead, watching Voldemort as he cast the spell.
-There is only one son of the House of Black-
For an instant, Regulus wanted his brother with him; he doubted his chosen path. Pride in self, in blood, in house, in life was one thing… but marked, branded like Muggle cattle?
-A Black does what is best for the House of Black-
Regulus bit the inside of his lip once more to help push the doubt down so deep that he no longer knew it. The House of Black was Pureblooded and the Mark didn't change that.
-A Black never lies unless necessary-
"Was that painful?" Voldemort's voice ordered Regulus to drop to his knees before him but Regulus refused.
"It was only the beginning, my lord."
If only Regulus had known the truth.
"Envy according to the aspect of its object is contrary to charity, whence the soul derives its spiritual life... Charity rejoices in our neighbor's good, while envy grieves over it." ~ St. Thomas Aquinas
The subtle glide of fingertips down a face, the smoothing of a wrinkle, the pushing of a lock of hair; Regulus kept the snarl to himself. They were more than friends -- that was obvious to any onlooker.
Sirius had not only betrayed the house of Black by associating with Mudbloods and Blood Traitors but he was now cavorting with mongrels. It was disgusting. It was infuriating.
It was… Regulus cut the thought off as he watched lips press against a neck under the guise of a whisper in the crowded pub. The huff across the table brought his attention back to his companion and their mission and away from the hand on the upper thigh that disguised itself as a steadying grip.
Severus looked up from his own parchment with a far too perceptive gaze.
"Do you want that?" Severus subtly tilted his head towards Sirius and his werewolf.
"Is it any of your business, Severus?" Regulus disguised his want, his envy, under a cold brusque tone. He was the only son of the House of Black and he would not be envious of a mongrel and a Blood Traitor. It wouldn't matter that he wanted to want, wanted someone to belong to him as the mongrel obviously did to Sirius.
"Possibly." Severus cocked an eyebrow before looking back down to ensure that the Quick-Notes Quill recorded the conversation a few tables over accurately.
"Possibly, is it? Why is that?" The mood at the table tightened as they stared at one another. That want within Regulus flared.
"If you have to ask, Regulus…" The rest of the thought was left unsaid but Regulus knew what he meant.
"We should explore the possibilities, then." Severus smirked and Regulus touched the back of his hand quickly, just a small glide of fingertips over skin.
The tight ball of envy loosened just a bit as the possibilities unfolded before him.
"Gluttony denotes, not any desire of eating and drinking, but an inordinate desire... leaving the order of reason, wherein the good of moral virtue consists." ~ St. Thomas Aquinas
This was the fifth house of the night, the twentieth that week. The screams didn't affect him as easily as they had previously. It took higher levels of pleading and screaming before Regulus felt that frisson of excitement.
Regulus sneered as the Muggle pleaded for mercy - just as they all did. The scent of fear was acrid in the air, a combination of piss and blood and sweat.
They'd been terrorizing Muggles for the past week, each night blending into the next. They'd gorged themselves on fear and torment. For some in their group -- MacNair came to mind -- it was a gluttonous feast, as it had been for Regulus in the beginning.
"Perhaps this one, we could leave alive." Severus's voice was oily slick in Regulus's ear as his breath ghosted across the skin. Regulus shivered in response.
"Why would we do that?" It was an honest question because they had their orders, even if those orders weren't what Regulus had thought they'd be.
"Let him tell others about us. Show him a bit of mercy." The words bordered on treason.
Instead of responding to the request, Regulus turned and licked Severus's throat.
Without removing his lips, he abruptly ended the spell and the Muggle plummeted to the ground, headfirst.
"There is your mercy, Severus."
"[Greed] is a sin directly against one's neighbor, since one man cannot over-abound in external riches, without another man lacking them... it is a sin against God, just as all mortal sins, inasmuch as man contemns things eternal for the sake of temporal things." ~ St. Thomas Aquinas
His climb to the top had been arduous if not very long. After all, he was a Black and it did not take a Black long to achieve a goal.
With his new position came power. It was this power that Regulus hoarded to himself. The power was more than just outranking the others, it was also about controlling information, giving out preferential treatment and assignments. It was everything and he doled it out sparingly.
Until Regulus had entered the inner circle, they had been getting along well, slowly becoming more than acquaintances or even friends. Their first kiss had happened two days before Regulus's promotion. Their first handjob had happened a day before.
Now, three months later, the schism between Regulus and Severus was growing. It had to be due to Severus's jealousy of his rank and power. He could not help that his blood status, his devotion, his beauty, his name, his intangible whatever made him more trusted than Severus.
"Are you sure you need no assistance?" The tone grated as Severus attempted to wheedle information about the current mission for the Dark Lord.
"Have I ever?" Flippant and condescending, Regulus held back a sneer by sheer force of will.
"You've done what you will. As always." Severus flipped his hand lightly but Regulus could see the hurt.
"You don't want to be involved, Severus." Regulus reached across and quickly brushed his hand over the pale skin across from him.
"No, Regulus, it is that you do not want me involved." That Severus realized the truth made no difference.
"[Anger is] the name of a passion. A passion of the sensitive appetite is good in so far as it is regulated by reason, whereas it is evil if it set the order of reason aside." ~ St. Thomas Aquinas
An Inferi. Regulus's rage knew no bounds as he stared at the creature in front of him. This creature, this abomination had once been his father. The father that had doted on him, taught him to walk, to talk, to behave like any Black should.
"Do you like my latest addition, Regulus?"
Regulus wanted, so very desperately, to turn around and scream at the monster, his master. He couldn't, wouldn't. Instead, he slowly inclined his head. "A good choice. Tell me; is my mother among your undead as well?" Mildly curious, his tone gave nothing away.
Voldemort merely laughed before leaving Regulus and his shell of a father behind.
As he stared at his father, Regulus realized that all that information he had hoarded so greedily would come in handy. He would have his revenge.
And so he plotted until he finally devised the plan to steal the locket. Deceptively simple, he would steal the locket and destroy a part of Voldemort's soul just as the Dark Lord had destroyed a part of his family.
It was only a matter of moments needed to get through and drain the bowl before the locket was in his hand. He had, after all, helped the Dark Lord research the locks and safeguards throughout the cave. He knew the spells to drain the bowl.
With a grin that was more feral than polite, Regulus opened the fake locket and placed his note inside.
To the Dark Lord
I know I will be dead long before you read this
but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.
I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.
I face death in the hope that when you meet your match,
you will be mortal once more.
R.A.B.
As he left the cave, his father's face in the lake haunted him.
"[Lust] occurs [when] a special kind of deformity whereby the venereal act is rendered unbecoming, there is a determinate species of lust… this is called 'the unnatural vice.' This may happen … by copulation with an undue sex, male with male, or female with female, as the Apostle states (Rm. 1:27): and this is called the 'vice of sodomy'." ~ St. Thomas Aquinas.
When Severus appeared at his safehouse one cloudy morning, Regulus was quick to push his wand into Severus' throat, that spot that he had licked and nipped so many times. A spell trembled on his lips but before he could complete the words, Severus answered with the press of lips against his and the distracting ghosting of hands.
Frightened, overwhelmed, unsure, Regulus pressed back. Soon, their kiss turned desperate until teeth clacked together while lips were pushed out to make way for the frantic press of tongues. He had no memory of how they arrived in the bedroom.
The taste of desperation was obvious to both of them and that desperation fueled their lust for one another as Regulus pushed Severus's legs apart and pressed into him. The slight whimpers coming from the face smothered in the pillow pushed him closer to the edge. Without hesitating, Regulus kept his hand fisted tightly, Severus's hair tangled in his grasp.
Severus thrust his head backwards and choked out, Regulus before Regulus yanked him backwards by the hair until ear touched lips.
"You wanted to be here, Severus." Regulus plunged forward and Severus thrust backwards to meet him, finally moving in tandem.
After they came, the sweat cooling into a sticky mess between them, the silence was deafening. Unlike their first time together, there would be no sweet touches in the afterglow. Instead, there was only tension between them.
"Why did you come here?" Regulus asked as he picked up a lock of Severus' hair off the damp forehead.
"For you, Regulus." Severus sounded weary.
"Would you follow me to the ends of the earth then? Leave the Dark Lord behind and flee with me?" Severus flipped abruptly and caught Regulus by the lips in another needy kiss silencing him.
It took only moments before Regulus was hard once more. When he was seated deep inside, the frantic pace abated as the thrusts became less rough and more languid. There would be time for soft touches and languorous sex, now.
"[Sloth is] sluggishness of the mind which neglects to begin good... [it] is evil in its effect, if it so oppresses man as to draw him away entirely from good deeds." ~ St. Thomas Aquinas
The night blended into day, which blended back into night. When he woke on the third day since his departure from the Death Eaters, there was a change in the air.
When he reached the bottom of the steps, he heard a voice off to the side. It sounded like Severus was entertaining visitors. Except that this was his safe house and no one was supposed to know where he was. He mentally kicked himself as he realized he'd forgotten his wand upstairs.
Slowly, he backed up, cringing when the step creaked under his foot. He picked up his pace as he went back to the bedroom for his wand. The door shut with barely a click as he was careful to close it softly.
Once inside, however, he started to tear the room apart. It wasn't on the nightstand. It wasn't tangled in the sweat-stained sheets. It wasn't under the bed. Fuck, it wasn't in his trousers or his robes.
"Where the fuck is it?" He cursed under his breath as he tossed clothing.
There was the locket. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten about the locket during the frantic coupling and sex from the past few days. Locket still in hand, he stopped. Severus
When Regulus turned, Severus was standing in the doorway, one shoulder resting on the frame, wand casually held in his hand. His expression gave nothing away as they stared at one another. The moment dragged on.
"Why?" Regulus's tone was light even as his mind raced.
"You know why." Severus used the same tone.
"Still, I'd like to hear it from your traitorous lips." He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned backwards against the bedpost. Severus was standing between Regulus and the door, wand in hand.
He was trapped and he'd not completed his task. Barely started it.
The locket was warm in his hand. The irony didn't escape him that part of Voldemort's soul would rest warm in his cold dead hand if he didn't act soon.
"The Dark Lord has questioned your devotion from the beginning. I've tried to warn you but you thought your place was assured while mine wasn't. Your pride has blinded you, Regulus." Severus pushed himself away from the doorway.
"I think, perhaps, that is the failing of all Blacks. Sirius could never see beyond himself and neither could you. You are both far more similar than either of you think. His blind pride will be his downfall as well." Severus looked from his wand and then back at Regulus, regret flashing across his face before it closed back into that emotionless mask.
"You are going to betray and murder me because of a prank my brother played? That is hardly fair." It was Regulus's turn to stand straight. Instead of remaining there, Regulus stalked across the room until he was intimately close to Severus.
"I am going to do as the Dark Lord requested. He wants a show of fealty. Your death will cement my position within the inner circle. I will be more trusted than Lucius or Bellatrix." As Severus spoke, Regulus took another step closer and their chests touched with each breath.
"Then do it. Kill me, but grant me a boon before you do." Regulus brushed his lips across Severus's. "Kiss me."
Severus nodded before pressing lips, devouring and wanting, against the other man's. The kiss had none of the romance or compassion as it once might have had in it. As they bit and licked each other, Regulus maneuvered them until he could slam Severus against the wall, taking command of the kiss.
Hands clenched Regulus's arse painfully as they ground their groins against each other, pressing deeper and fuller against each other. The wand slipped slightly from the grasp on his arse.
Regulus pulled back abruptly.
"More." He grabbed Severus's hands from his arse and thrust them over Severus's head. The locket was now pressed warmly between their hands as they hit the wall with a satisfying bang.
Swooping in, Regulus bit the juncture between his neck and shoulder, determined to leave his mark regardless of the outcome. Live or die, he wanted Severus to have a reminder of his betrayal. A small spurt of blood burst into his mouth, telling him that the mark would scar. It would last.
When Severus gave a breathy moan, Regulus pulled back and, with the hand still holding the locket, slapped Severus across the face.
"Fuck you, Severus." Moving quickly, he snatched Severus's wand and left the room.
He hurried down the steps, racing to get out of the house, locket in hand. In his fear or his panic, or even the fucking with Severus, he'd forgotten to complete the destruction of the Horcrux.
He had to get the locket to Sirius.
But it wasn't to be.
Walden MacNair stood at the bottom of the steps.
"Going somewhere, boy?" Regulus started to shove past, but the man was stronger and held on with an iron-like grasp. The patter of steps behind him told him that Severus had arrived.
"You lost something, Sevvie." MacNair plucked Severus's wand from Regulus’s hand. "Finish it."
MacNair turned him so that he was facing Severus. "A moment." Regulus held out the hand with the locket. "For my mother, a gift."
Severus reached out a hand and Regulus felt a small measure of something to see the slight shaking as he grasped the locket. That want from so many months ago flared once more. Roughly, Regulus shrugged off MacNair's grasp.
If he'd only had time, if he'd only thought about it, if he'd only moved fast enough, the locket…
All those thoughts flowed, rapid-fire, through Regulus's mind as he watched the bright green light streak towards him.
Regulus left the world with a sigh.
Death seemed anti-climatic.
FROM: wook77
TITLE: The Root of Sin
PAIRING:Regulus/Severus with mentions of Sirius/Remus
RATING: NC-17
SUMMARY: Too late, Regulus learns that pride is the cause of every sin.
WARNINGS: Character Death
DISCLAIMER: All characters associated with Harry Potter are the property of J. K. Rowling and associated business partners. No profit has been made.
AUTHOR NOTES: All quotations used are from This Website except for the text of the note. That is taken from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Chapter 28. Many thanks to my hand-holders betas without whom this story would not have occurred. Any remaining mistakes are my own.
"[Pride is] inordinate self-love [which] is the cause of every sin ... the root of pride is found to consist in man not being, in some way, subject to God and His rule." ~ St. Thomas Aquinas
Regulus entered the world with a scream.
That was when the lessons in what it meant to be a Black, Toujours Pur, began.
-A Black never raises his voice-
Regulus bit down on the inside of his lip as the Mark started to sear into his arm.
-A Black never associates with Mudbloods-
Regulus looked at the assembled crowd around him. Lucius Malfoy, his cousin Bellatrix, Severus Snape and Barty Crouch Jr. stood near him.
-A Black never fidgets-
As the Dark Mark burned through the bone and into his soul, Regulus stood still.
-A Black stands tall-
As the pain crested, Regulus stared straight ahead, watching Voldemort as he cast the spell.
-There is only one son of the House of Black-
For an instant, Regulus wanted his brother with him; he doubted his chosen path. Pride in self, in blood, in house, in life was one thing… but marked, branded like Muggle cattle?
-A Black does what is best for the House of Black-
Regulus bit the inside of his lip once more to help push the doubt down so deep that he no longer knew it. The House of Black was Pureblooded and the Mark didn't change that.
-A Black never lies unless necessary-
"Was that painful?" Voldemort's voice ordered Regulus to drop to his knees before him but Regulus refused.
"It was only the beginning, my lord."
If only Regulus had known the truth.
"Envy according to the aspect of its object is contrary to charity, whence the soul derives its spiritual life... Charity rejoices in our neighbor's good, while envy grieves over it." ~ St. Thomas Aquinas
The subtle glide of fingertips down a face, the smoothing of a wrinkle, the pushing of a lock of hair; Regulus kept the snarl to himself. They were more than friends -- that was obvious to any onlooker.
Sirius had not only betrayed the house of Black by associating with Mudbloods and Blood Traitors but he was now cavorting with mongrels. It was disgusting. It was infuriating.
It was… Regulus cut the thought off as he watched lips press against a neck under the guise of a whisper in the crowded pub. The huff across the table brought his attention back to his companion and their mission and away from the hand on the upper thigh that disguised itself as a steadying grip.
Severus looked up from his own parchment with a far too perceptive gaze.
"Do you want that?" Severus subtly tilted his head towards Sirius and his werewolf.
"Is it any of your business, Severus?" Regulus disguised his want, his envy, under a cold brusque tone. He was the only son of the House of Black and he would not be envious of a mongrel and a Blood Traitor. It wouldn't matter that he wanted to want, wanted someone to belong to him as the mongrel obviously did to Sirius.
"Possibly." Severus cocked an eyebrow before looking back down to ensure that the Quick-Notes Quill recorded the conversation a few tables over accurately.
"Possibly, is it? Why is that?" The mood at the table tightened as they stared at one another. That want within Regulus flared.
"If you have to ask, Regulus…" The rest of the thought was left unsaid but Regulus knew what he meant.
"We should explore the possibilities, then." Severus smirked and Regulus touched the back of his hand quickly, just a small glide of fingertips over skin.
The tight ball of envy loosened just a bit as the possibilities unfolded before him.
"Gluttony denotes, not any desire of eating and drinking, but an inordinate desire... leaving the order of reason, wherein the good of moral virtue consists." ~ St. Thomas Aquinas
This was the fifth house of the night, the twentieth that week. The screams didn't affect him as easily as they had previously. It took higher levels of pleading and screaming before Regulus felt that frisson of excitement.
Regulus sneered as the Muggle pleaded for mercy - just as they all did. The scent of fear was acrid in the air, a combination of piss and blood and sweat.
They'd been terrorizing Muggles for the past week, each night blending into the next. They'd gorged themselves on fear and torment. For some in their group -- MacNair came to mind -- it was a gluttonous feast, as it had been for Regulus in the beginning.
"Perhaps this one, we could leave alive." Severus's voice was oily slick in Regulus's ear as his breath ghosted across the skin. Regulus shivered in response.
"Why would we do that?" It was an honest question because they had their orders, even if those orders weren't what Regulus had thought they'd be.
"Let him tell others about us. Show him a bit of mercy." The words bordered on treason.
Instead of responding to the request, Regulus turned and licked Severus's throat.
Without removing his lips, he abruptly ended the spell and the Muggle plummeted to the ground, headfirst.
"There is your mercy, Severus."
"[Greed] is a sin directly against one's neighbor, since one man cannot over-abound in external riches, without another man lacking them... it is a sin against God, just as all mortal sins, inasmuch as man contemns things eternal for the sake of temporal things." ~ St. Thomas Aquinas
His climb to the top had been arduous if not very long. After all, he was a Black and it did not take a Black long to achieve a goal.
With his new position came power. It was this power that Regulus hoarded to himself. The power was more than just outranking the others, it was also about controlling information, giving out preferential treatment and assignments. It was everything and he doled it out sparingly.
Until Regulus had entered the inner circle, they had been getting along well, slowly becoming more than acquaintances or even friends. Their first kiss had happened two days before Regulus's promotion. Their first handjob had happened a day before.
Now, three months later, the schism between Regulus and Severus was growing. It had to be due to Severus's jealousy of his rank and power. He could not help that his blood status, his devotion, his beauty, his name, his intangible whatever made him more trusted than Severus.
"Are you sure you need no assistance?" The tone grated as Severus attempted to wheedle information about the current mission for the Dark Lord.
"Have I ever?" Flippant and condescending, Regulus held back a sneer by sheer force of will.
"You've done what you will. As always." Severus flipped his hand lightly but Regulus could see the hurt.
"You don't want to be involved, Severus." Regulus reached across and quickly brushed his hand over the pale skin across from him.
"No, Regulus, it is that you do not want me involved." That Severus realized the truth made no difference.
"[Anger is] the name of a passion. A passion of the sensitive appetite is good in so far as it is regulated by reason, whereas it is evil if it set the order of reason aside." ~ St. Thomas Aquinas
An Inferi. Regulus's rage knew no bounds as he stared at the creature in front of him. This creature, this abomination had once been his father. The father that had doted on him, taught him to walk, to talk, to behave like any Black should.
"Do you like my latest addition, Regulus?"
Regulus wanted, so very desperately, to turn around and scream at the monster, his master. He couldn't, wouldn't. Instead, he slowly inclined his head. "A good choice. Tell me; is my mother among your undead as well?" Mildly curious, his tone gave nothing away.
Voldemort merely laughed before leaving Regulus and his shell of a father behind.
As he stared at his father, Regulus realized that all that information he had hoarded so greedily would come in handy. He would have his revenge.
And so he plotted until he finally devised the plan to steal the locket. Deceptively simple, he would steal the locket and destroy a part of Voldemort's soul just as the Dark Lord had destroyed a part of his family.
It was only a matter of moments needed to get through and drain the bowl before the locket was in his hand. He had, after all, helped the Dark Lord research the locks and safeguards throughout the cave. He knew the spells to drain the bowl.
With a grin that was more feral than polite, Regulus opened the fake locket and placed his note inside.
To the Dark Lord
I know I will be dead long before you read this
but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.
I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.
I face death in the hope that when you meet your match,
you will be mortal once more.
R.A.B.
As he left the cave, his father's face in the lake haunted him.
"[Lust] occurs [when] a special kind of deformity whereby the venereal act is rendered unbecoming, there is a determinate species of lust… this is called 'the unnatural vice.' This may happen … by copulation with an undue sex, male with male, or female with female, as the Apostle states (Rm. 1:27): and this is called the 'vice of sodomy'." ~ St. Thomas Aquinas.
When Severus appeared at his safehouse one cloudy morning, Regulus was quick to push his wand into Severus' throat, that spot that he had licked and nipped so many times. A spell trembled on his lips but before he could complete the words, Severus answered with the press of lips against his and the distracting ghosting of hands.
Frightened, overwhelmed, unsure, Regulus pressed back. Soon, their kiss turned desperate until teeth clacked together while lips were pushed out to make way for the frantic press of tongues. He had no memory of how they arrived in the bedroom.
The taste of desperation was obvious to both of them and that desperation fueled their lust for one another as Regulus pushed Severus's legs apart and pressed into him. The slight whimpers coming from the face smothered in the pillow pushed him closer to the edge. Without hesitating, Regulus kept his hand fisted tightly, Severus's hair tangled in his grasp.
Severus thrust his head backwards and choked out, Regulus before Regulus yanked him backwards by the hair until ear touched lips.
"You wanted to be here, Severus." Regulus plunged forward and Severus thrust backwards to meet him, finally moving in tandem.
After they came, the sweat cooling into a sticky mess between them, the silence was deafening. Unlike their first time together, there would be no sweet touches in the afterglow. Instead, there was only tension between them.
"Why did you come here?" Regulus asked as he picked up a lock of Severus' hair off the damp forehead.
"For you, Regulus." Severus sounded weary.
"Would you follow me to the ends of the earth then? Leave the Dark Lord behind and flee with me?" Severus flipped abruptly and caught Regulus by the lips in another needy kiss silencing him.
It took only moments before Regulus was hard once more. When he was seated deep inside, the frantic pace abated as the thrusts became less rough and more languid. There would be time for soft touches and languorous sex, now.
"[Sloth is] sluggishness of the mind which neglects to begin good... [it] is evil in its effect, if it so oppresses man as to draw him away entirely from good deeds." ~ St. Thomas Aquinas
The night blended into day, which blended back into night. When he woke on the third day since his departure from the Death Eaters, there was a change in the air.
When he reached the bottom of the steps, he heard a voice off to the side. It sounded like Severus was entertaining visitors. Except that this was his safe house and no one was supposed to know where he was. He mentally kicked himself as he realized he'd forgotten his wand upstairs.
Slowly, he backed up, cringing when the step creaked under his foot. He picked up his pace as he went back to the bedroom for his wand. The door shut with barely a click as he was careful to close it softly.
Once inside, however, he started to tear the room apart. It wasn't on the nightstand. It wasn't tangled in the sweat-stained sheets. It wasn't under the bed. Fuck, it wasn't in his trousers or his robes.
"Where the fuck is it?" He cursed under his breath as he tossed clothing.
There was the locket. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten about the locket during the frantic coupling and sex from the past few days. Locket still in hand, he stopped. Severus
When Regulus turned, Severus was standing in the doorway, one shoulder resting on the frame, wand casually held in his hand. His expression gave nothing away as they stared at one another. The moment dragged on.
"Why?" Regulus's tone was light even as his mind raced.
"You know why." Severus used the same tone.
"Still, I'd like to hear it from your traitorous lips." He crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned backwards against the bedpost. Severus was standing between Regulus and the door, wand in hand.
He was trapped and he'd not completed his task. Barely started it.
The locket was warm in his hand. The irony didn't escape him that part of Voldemort's soul would rest warm in his cold dead hand if he didn't act soon.
"The Dark Lord has questioned your devotion from the beginning. I've tried to warn you but you thought your place was assured while mine wasn't. Your pride has blinded you, Regulus." Severus pushed himself away from the doorway.
"I think, perhaps, that is the failing of all Blacks. Sirius could never see beyond himself and neither could you. You are both far more similar than either of you think. His blind pride will be his downfall as well." Severus looked from his wand and then back at Regulus, regret flashing across his face before it closed back into that emotionless mask.
"You are going to betray and murder me because of a prank my brother played? That is hardly fair." It was Regulus's turn to stand straight. Instead of remaining there, Regulus stalked across the room until he was intimately close to Severus.
"I am going to do as the Dark Lord requested. He wants a show of fealty. Your death will cement my position within the inner circle. I will be more trusted than Lucius or Bellatrix." As Severus spoke, Regulus took another step closer and their chests touched with each breath.
"Then do it. Kill me, but grant me a boon before you do." Regulus brushed his lips across Severus's. "Kiss me."
Severus nodded before pressing lips, devouring and wanting, against the other man's. The kiss had none of the romance or compassion as it once might have had in it. As they bit and licked each other, Regulus maneuvered them until he could slam Severus against the wall, taking command of the kiss.
Hands clenched Regulus's arse painfully as they ground their groins against each other, pressing deeper and fuller against each other. The wand slipped slightly from the grasp on his arse.
Regulus pulled back abruptly.
"More." He grabbed Severus's hands from his arse and thrust them over Severus's head. The locket was now pressed warmly between their hands as they hit the wall with a satisfying bang.
Swooping in, Regulus bit the juncture between his neck and shoulder, determined to leave his mark regardless of the outcome. Live or die, he wanted Severus to have a reminder of his betrayal. A small spurt of blood burst into his mouth, telling him that the mark would scar. It would last.
When Severus gave a breathy moan, Regulus pulled back and, with the hand still holding the locket, slapped Severus across the face.
"Fuck you, Severus." Moving quickly, he snatched Severus's wand and left the room.
He hurried down the steps, racing to get out of the house, locket in hand. In his fear or his panic, or even the fucking with Severus, he'd forgotten to complete the destruction of the Horcrux.
He had to get the locket to Sirius.
But it wasn't to be.
Walden MacNair stood at the bottom of the steps.
"Going somewhere, boy?" Regulus started to shove past, but the man was stronger and held on with an iron-like grasp. The patter of steps behind him told him that Severus had arrived.
"You lost something, Sevvie." MacNair plucked Severus's wand from Regulus’s hand. "Finish it."
MacNair turned him so that he was facing Severus. "A moment." Regulus held out the hand with the locket. "For my mother, a gift."
Severus reached out a hand and Regulus felt a small measure of something to see the slight shaking as he grasped the locket. That want from so many months ago flared once more. Roughly, Regulus shrugged off MacNair's grasp.
If he'd only had time, if he'd only thought about it, if he'd only moved fast enough, the locket…
All those thoughts flowed, rapid-fire, through Regulus's mind as he watched the bright green light streak towards him.
Regulus left the world with a sigh.
Death seemed anti-climatic.